Auger
by shintas1st
Summary: Giving up control is hard enough. Having it snatched away is even harder.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Young Justice, the comic or the show, or any of the characters associated with it. I make no profit from this work of fiction; it is purely for entertainment purposes.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Wally woke slowly, consciousness coming down on him like a blanket of cotton. Everything seemed muted for the first few seconds. Sound, sight, _color_. If he didn't have the feel and taste of a guard in his mouth he might have forgotten he had one.

Trying to move his jaw was like trying to pry open a steel vice. Blinking away what he assumed was a prolonged case of the morning fuzzies from his eyes, he did his best to sit up, only to find that he _couldn't_. "Hwhartff?"

Quick movement at his side, a mass of red that jolted so hard he gasped, caught his attention. "Wally! You're awake!"

Uncle Barry. Or Flash. No, definitely Uncle Barry, he recognized that overly tight hug anywhere.

"Uuhnkl Bawwy, wewauwee- sshhrr," Wally struggled around the bulky mouth guard, trying hard not to drool on Barry's uniform. When the man pulled back he finally got to see his worried face, all of it; he'd swooped in for a hug so fast Wally hadn't gotten the chance to see if his cowl was down or not.

Instead of smiling or laughing at his ridiculous attempt at speech like he thought he would, Barry frowned. A quick step away revealed the tense cape covered shoulders of Batman who was busy jotting down notes on a clip board. The man was hunched over a set of monitors, the soft beeping he'd been unconsciously listening to as he lay in- Wally took a second to look around, slight panic building up inside of him when all he was able to move were his eyes- what looked like a hospital bed. "Bwaman?"

"How are you feeling, Wally?" The man in question turned, his usual air of authority offset by the firm lines at the sides of his mouth that made Wally think of Barry's frowns when he came out of a close scrape.

"Uh... mmuhky? Efenk... weh cn't eh mv? Nn weh dh eh hv eh moffgrd?" Wally grimaced as he felt spittle drip out of the side of his mouth, even more disgusted when the line traced down his cheek to tickle the bottom of his ear. "Euwwwww..."

After a moment of staring Batman shifted his gaze pointedly to Barry, who deciphered Wally's muffled speech with relative ease, wiping his nephew's face with a wad of tissue. "He says he's okay, and he wants to know why he can't move and why he has a mouth guard." The blond's brows furrowed and Wally noticed that he was having trouble keeping eye contact with him. When Batman came to a silent conclusion and turned his back on the pair again, Barry sighed. "You don't remember anything, do you Wally?"

"Hwuh?"

When Barry sat down for a talk it was never a good thing. Wally was only able to follow him with his eyes as he sank into the chair at his bedside, letting his face be cradled by his hands. When he finally pulled them away the man's face was as neutral as he could get it. Meaning Wally could see every ounce of pain and fear in him when he spoke. "Batman said something like this might have happened, but I didn't want to believe it. Your... short term memory has been tampered with. I need you to think for me, Kid. What is the last thing you remember?"

Batman was facing them again though he was still by the monitors. Wally could tell he was waiting for him to speak, hand poised above the clipboard, pen in hand. It made him nervous. Hell, the fact that he couldn't move and the fact that his uncle was treating him like he was on his death bed made him terrified. It came as no surprise to either of the older heroes when the beeping of the monitor sped up at a higher pitch.

"It's alright, Wally, everything is fine. Just try and tell us as much as you can, okay?"

Wally both hated and loved that tone, safe in the gentleness of it and spooked by it all at once. _Why_ did his uncle feel the need to calm him as though he were a trauma victim? So far his only problem was drooling too much and not being able to get out of that stupid bed.

"Eh...," his brows furrowed as he attempted to do as told, drawing up a blank for several seconds before he seemed to light up in realization, "Bwaman wsh tlln ush abow ur nw misshn nd... uh... th' Bwioshp... uh..."

Barry relayed his words as he said them, Batman wordlessly setting to the task of recording. It didn't help his urge to fidget and excuse himself one bit. "He remembers you telling him about a new mission, and he remembers being in the Bioship."

Over the course of a half hour the elder Speedster translated for the younger, bits and pieces of memories he could recall jotted down for later observation. There were mentions of the team, fragments that came together in a perforated mess of jokes and half sure observations about what he thought the team was on their way to do. In the end there wasn't very much to show for it other than the bare minimum; that the team had a mission and Wally couldn't remember an ounce of it past boarding the ship.

He relaxed, or at least he felt like he did, he still couldn't really move, when Batman set the clip board aside. By the way the cowl tilted back in the direction of the monitors he could tell he was thinking.

"According to the team's reports, Wally, you were captured during the mission."

Batman seemed to be unsure of whether or not he should continue, Barry letting his head hang, elbows on his knees as he let the other man take up the duty of filling Wally in.

"The team was sent to the country of Bagare to investigate a jump in missing persons reports around the First Main district over the last month. An hour following touchdown, after splitting into groups to efficiently scout the surrounding area, you were engaged by a group of armed civilians claiming to be the "Salvadors de Alto Delta". Your pair partner, Aqualad, reports having received similar relays over your comm. links from your teammates, but you were unable to find an opening to escape in order to regroup."

Wally felt a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach like heavy, slime covered rocks. He couldn't help but ask, feeling like he was being told a joke with a horribly distasteful punchline at the end. "Whrrsh evrwn elsh?"

"All but Aqualad are in the waiting room, awaiting clearance to come visit you," Batman murmured, lips pursed tight, "Aqualad is in the ICU down the hall."

Had he been able to move, Wally would have been off like a shot. As it was, he could only make a strangled noise and look frantically at the two men for assistance.

"He suffered multiple bullet wounds to the legs and chest, as well as a fractured wrist, but he's stable. Atlanteans are made of tough stuff."

He could feel the warmth of Barry's hand engulfing his, pulling it up a fraction, but he couldn't move his own fingers to grip it tight. He could also feel the lukewarm bite of what could only be a leather restraint on his forearm. Eyes falling to the man that was like a second father to him he whimpered, panic rising again in a frantic question that he desperately needed to be answered.

"It's okay Wally," Barry shushed him, letting a thumb rub soothing circles on the back of his hand as he spoke, "They're for your own safety." The look in his eyes read 'Trust me'. It wasn't quite enough to calm his elevated heart rate, and Batman was soon there slipping a needle into his arm.

The boy's uncle looked as though he were carrying a thousand weights on his shoulders as he watched his nephew's panicked eyes slowly close, the sedative enough to grant him a stress free sleep for as long as his body would allow.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

**A/N**: Oh boy, oh boy, I'm excited to write this one. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Young Justice, the comic or the show, or any of the characters associated with it. I make no profit from this work of fiction; it is purely for entertainment purposes.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

Deja vu _would_ have been the word for what Wally felt if he didn't remember immediately after waking that he had, indeed, come to in a similar manner before. He'd only been out for twenty minutes, but the tranquilizer that was clinging to him by a thread made him groggy. A quick glance around, up and then right, sparked a small amount of confusion on top of the anxiety he felt over what had already transpired.

"W... wrrsh Uhnkl Brrwrry...?" So the guard was still in. Trying to talk around it was already hard, now it just felt like he was trying to swallow molasses. What a terrible combination, having a mouth full of drool and feeling a dry patch in the back of his throat that he couldn't quite reach.

Batman was the only other living thing in the room, and now that his attention wasn't centered on him or his uncle, Wally found that he could catch a glimpse of the monitors Batman was observing. It was a stretch, he had to strain his eyes all the way to the side, and it did cause him a little discomfort, but he could see them. He assumed he'd been laying there for some time, unable to feel the electrodes that he could see the ends of the wires for. A look down at himself gave him no other information; they'd placed the blanket that was keeping him warm over him, completely concealing his body and, he grimaced, the restraints that he knew were still there.

It took a few moments, but Batman seemed to have deciphered Wally's terribly slurred and muffled speech. "The Flash," he said pointedly, "Made a trip to Central City after you went under. It's only been three hours since you returned from the mission, he went to inform your parents of your condition."

Wally couldn't decide if he was more concerned over the fact that he had a "condition", or that his parents now _knew_ he had one. That it was serious enough for his uncle to have to run all the way back from- The boy's brows furrowed as he realized he didn't actually know where he was. He knew he was in a hospital room, but where? Which hospital? Or were they in the infirmary at the mountain base?

A more pressing concern, though, as he was left with being able to do barely anything more than _think_, was why wasn't Barry back yet? Were they really that far away, or was the news so bad that his uncle had been sucked into consoling his family instead of coming back right away?

When Batman turned he caught sight of the troubled expression that had overtaken Wally's face. He didn't look as panicked as he'd been before Barry left. Judging by the way the beeping of the monitor gradually began to increase, though, it was clear that he was slowly getting there. "Focus, Wally."

The stern command seemed to snap the redhead out of the downward spiral his thoughts were taking. His eyes were clear when the man took up the space beside his bed, the clipboard he'd been holding resting atop a stool in the corner.

"Do you remember what I was telling you before?"

Wally wanted to nod, but settled for a small noise of agreement.

"Do you think you can stay calm without your uncle here?"

Another noise, hesitant but affirmative.

Batman stood and observed him for a long moment, so long that Wally could practically feel his skin beginning to crawl with uneasiness. He forced himself to hold eye contact, and when the man took a seat he felt a tiny rush of relief.

"With your mission compromised Aqualad's top priority was to get the team out safely. His focus was on retreating and assisting one of your other two groups, if need be, in order to make sure all members returned safely. The attack was not random; the groups that engaged you were expecting your arrival. They were on high alert _before_ you began recon."

Wally's brows arched in surprise. They'd dropped into the middle of a hot zone? The thought that Batman would never knowingly send them into such territory came a split second before he dismissed the possibility of a mole as well. They'd already been down _that_ road; if there had been one they would have been exposed by now.

"The League is currently going on the assumption that whoever coordinated the patrol also has knowledge of your team acting on behalf of the League on various other instances. What is of more importance, at the moment, is _who_ they are and _why_ they targeted you."

Batman's words paused, and for a moment Wally thought he expected him to tell him something. A moment's thought proved otherwise, however, as the Dark Knight rose and walked out of his line of sight, the metal click and slide of what Wally thought might have been drawers sounding in the quiet room. After a soft shuffle the man returned, a single folder in hand.

"You were taken after a brief struggle. Aqualad was rendered unconscious, and Miss Martian reports having lost mental contact with you shortly after. You were found three hours later by Artemis, Robin, Miss Martian, and Zatanna, Superboy having been assigned the task of carrying Aqualad to the Bioship which, upon instruction from Miss Martian, returned him to the mountain for immediate treatment."

The folder opened with a harsh sounding snap, and Wally saw the edge of the dark, nearly opaque, documents inside. He recognized them as x-rays, at least six of them, one of which Batman lifted for him to view more easily. Immediately he realized what he was looking at; it was the radiographic image of a skull.

"Whh...?" The first things he noticed were the small, seemingly random areas of white, lines forming the distinct outlines of tiny cubes apparent in each section. From the coloring they appeared to have hollow areas, more white lines sprouting from each corner to curl back toward the area occupied by the brain almost like wires. He counted seven in total, some harder to see than others, almost like they were _buried_ beneath additional layers of tissue.

Wally's eyes darted to the second image as Batman replaced the one of the skull, this time showing him a spine. The little cubes and wires were _everywhere_.

"When your teammates found you, you were alone and injured but far from a critical state. Whoever captured you obviously did not intend to kill you at that time. These x-rays," Batman placed them back into the folder and set them aside, "Are of _your_ body. The white areas that you noticed are biochips wired directly into your central nervous system."

It was with the most sickening feeling that Wally made the connection between the chips in his body and his inability to move. Fortunately the violent gagging clued Batman in on the state of the shocked teenager.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be making a move to remove that mouth guard. When Wally vomited, his mouth didn't open nearly wide enough, the small trash bin Batman was holding and the presence of his hand under his head lifting and tilting it not enough to keep some of the contents of his stomach from spilling over his face and pillow. He retched violently, staining the blanket laid out over him as well with his sick.

No thoughts came to the boy as he heaved, his mind scattered even when the only thing to come up was air. The terrible burn was strong in his mouth, the fluid having stained his teeth and tongue with the horrid taste, some of it trapped under the hook of the guard. His eyes stung with tears both from the retching and emotional distress, and it almost didn't feel weird when Batman cradled his head for a second more and set him gently down on the bed now devoid of a pillow. Almost.

The man seemed hesitant to leave, even more so when Wally let out a pitiful whine, but immediately after his departure a pair of nurses entered. He squeezed his eyes shut as his face was cleaned, tears refusing to cease their stinging. Batman was still there standing just over their shoulders, making sure they didn't remove the guard, Wally found out, the moment it was reached for. With his head positioned over a medical pan, they set about cleaning _around_ the mouth guard.

Wally couldn't figure out why this was happening to him. The last thing he could remember was setting out excitedly in the Bioship for a mission with his team, his _friends_, then waking up _here_. Barry was gone, Kaldur was seriously injured, possibly because of _him_, and now Batman was standing impassively to the side as two strangers supported his paralyzed body to better get puke out of his mouth. Probably so he wouldn't choke on it.

One of the nurses pulled back the soiled blanket, fussing momentarily as it caught on something. With morbid curiosity he opened his eyes, straining hard to get a look at himself. As he suspected the restraints were still there, thick padded leather bands buckled to the bed over his forearms, thighs, and ankles, electrode wires peeking out from under the dusty blue shirt the staff had no doubt put him in. Where he wasn't covered in clothes or restraints he was covered in bruises and cuts, nearly healed but their mere presence was enough.

He wished he'd choked.

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End file.
